Walking Alone
by Zeech
Summary: In the pits of Hell Bardock copes with his guilt.


I try not to look at them Douglas A. Coggeshall Normal Douglas A. Coggeshall 2 270 2001-11-10T01:18:00Z 2001-11-10T01:18:00Z 2 1806 10298 Coggeshall Engineering Ltd. 85 20 12646 9.3821 0 0 

**walking alone**

**zchan**

He tried not to look at them, but it was incredibly difficult when they did nothing but look to him day after day. Or maybe it was hour after hour, day after day – it wasn't clear to him how time passed in hell. But even she looked to him, silently, not even speaking to him even though it had been years since she had last seen him. It wasn't even so much the fact that they all thought he was crazy in their last moments of life than it was the blaring, paining fact that he had failed his comrade's request for vengeance and justice. 

Toma had been merciful and kept it all to himself, but still, nobody spoke to him. They whispered to each other, voices hushed as if worried they would offend him in some way. The shock was still hovering, but for some of the Saiyajins they had met in hell, it was simply another day, or an increase in the population. His mate was one of these, but not even that could bring him to speak to them. 

He had made it so clear that he wanted nothing more than to be left alone when he had first arrived  -- screaming in rage that he would kill anyone that so much as even looked at him (despite the fact that they were all already dead). His back was pressed against one of the white walls, and he thought. He pondered; he contemplated until his temples throbbed with a dead exhaustion, his mind and heart condemned to a prison of regret and guilt. 

But this was only the third day. 

Night and day seemed to run as it did in the world of the living, only a bit more like military training than not. The ogres would come in and demand that they all sleep, and the Saiyajins would all blankly walk over to their separate cells. Their days were nothing but blurs of boredom, some of the Saiyajins who had been their longer fought sometimes, but that was the climax of the day. It wasn't until the third day that he had even thought he _wanted_ to speak with his mate, but could not bring himself to do it. The wall was becoming more and more agitating, so he decided to move. 

But where to? The grounds of their territory were so crowded during the day that he wouldn't have a moment of privacy. Privacy was what he wanted. He had been right about Freeza, Vejiitasei – the future. But as much as he had seen of the future, he was still powerless to change it. Perhaps that was what hurt the most. 

So he didn't move. He stayed where he was by that wall, contemplating yet some more. Until the blue blankets of night draped themselves over the scars of hell; then he considered moving to his cell. He drew his black brows down further, making him look angry rather than desperate. His green and black armor was the only thing trapping his body heat from the harsh cold of hell. Despite all of the legends and rumors of hell being hot and flaming, it was bitterly cold. Hands that were perhaps even colder than the air around him burned his shoulder, and he snapped his head around to face the one that dared touch him. 

Niku. 

His body relaxed, as did his facial muscles – the scowl disappeared and he regarded her darkly, longing for her touch but afraid to touch her. Had Toma told her about everything? What would she think of him, his failure? When her lithe arms found his shoulders, he didn't fight he embrace. He didn't hold her back, but he nuzzled her cheek. 

"I've missed you, Bardock." she whispered, and her voice pulled his arms around her. But she wasn't as he remembered her eleven months ago; her body wasn't rough and warm as it had been in life. No, this time it was cold and thin, barely a trace left. Hell had bore down hard on her, and hopefully this was as bad as it would get. He had heard a few females talking about how it was nice to never age, and he thought Niku would like that as well. "Why have you ignored us? You're not...you're not who I remember, Bardock."

"I've been through hell, you could say." he told her, pulling off and turning his back to her. "I assume Toma hasn't told you about what happened...before everything was destroyed."

He could feel her doubt seeping through the spaces between them. "Only that Freeza was responsible, but everyone knows that. And...that you tried to warn everyone." she came a little closer. "Bardock...where are our sons? Did they somehow...survive?"

Bardock nodded blankly. "Yes. Raditz went on his training mission, and I suppose Turles hadn't returned with his rendezvous with the gamma sector diplomats. Kakarott...he...lives, but, " Bardock just silenced himself. Why continue, she would never believe him. "He lives, Niku. We can at least put our faith in him to destroy Freeza."

"Bardock, that's not all that's bothering you." she told him, forcing him to face her. Her dark eyes searched his, and his expression remained blank as he stared back. It was depressing seeing her again – it only reminded him that he was dead. After a minute of studying him, she dropped her eyes and gave a faint smile. "It's me, isn't it? You found another since I left."

Bardock opened his mouth, but she only shook her head to stop him from speaking. "When we mated I thought it would be for life. But I realize now, that this isn't life anymore." she leaned her head on his broad chest. "And I've lost you."

_Niku, it's not you! _He thought urgently, but couldn't find the strength to go after her. Damn female! Jumping to conclusions so quickly! If only she knew – 

He could only watch her retreat to her cell. And he decided to move. 

He didn't go far, however, before he met up with the last person he wanted to see. 

"You've been awfully quiet lately, commander." 

Bardock scowled up at his friend through hateful dark eyes. "Move, Toma."

The taller man tilted his head to the side, and Bardock winced when a glint of light reflected off his halo; the token of the dead.  Bardock kept his scowl and began to push past Toma (despite the fact that Bardock's top spike barely reached Toma's hairline, Toma's height had no advantage over Bardock's power level. Of course...that was the land of the living when power mattered.) But the sub-leader flattened a palm on his chest, pushing him back.

Bardock's voice went hard and flat. "I said move."

"You,' Toma said firmly, arms crossing at his broad chest. "Stop. We obviously need to talk about something, Bardock. Now let's hear it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

Toma snorted and took a seat on one of the white benches. "I'm counting to four, Bardock."

"Fuck you." Bardock snapped, turning on his heel and storming off to his respective cell. He didn't get more than four feet before Toma's voice poisoned his thoughts again, and he was forced to stop, though he didn't turn around. 

"You've failed and now you're angry and depressed because you couldn't bring Freeza to justice, you supposedly let your crew down, and your son down. And on top of all that, you're dead, Bardock." Toma raised his eyebrows as Bardock turned to face him, brows drawn down so low he looked like a rabid dog. "So instead of dropping the whole matter and letting your frustrations out, you're keeping them to yourself and rejecting everyone, rejecting your wife.... whom, may I add, recently died and you put up such a fit that even the palace guards didn't want to challenge you that day."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Toma." Bardock muttered through his gritted teeth, fists clenched so hard it was painful. "You were _not_ there. You didn't see the sheer pleasure in Freeza's face as I hovered there, petrified in fear I didn't know I had and he destroyed the planet I was trying to save. He knew I was powerless to stop him, and that it was killing me. You have no idea what this...failure means to me."

"So it wasn't just the slaughter of your crew, or your people. It was the slaughter of your pride." Toma fed back quietly, putting his arms behind his head. "You don't think I know what you're going through? You have this idea in your head that it was easy and breezy for me to hear the big plan from Dodoria, then to lay there in my blood – to _know_ I was dying and hoping to god or whoever is out there that I could somehow tell you before the shit storm collapsed on you and the rest of the planet. And then, when you showed up down here with everyone else I felt like my goal all along had been to keep you alive – that one little light of hope I still held counted on you still being alive. That _you_ could bring us justice, and save our people." 

Bardock's jaw trembled a little, and Toma could see how the rage was shaking him. But he continued. "But when you died, Bardock...when you finally died felt the failure full force." 

"Well you shouldn't have, Toma." Bardock growled, quite menacingly. "You had no idea Dodoria would ambush you. I saw it coming and still I couldn't stop it."

This made Toma spring to his feet in a rush of frustration, then swing a fist into his old commander's nose. Bardock stumbled backward with blood spurting from his nostrils, glaring at Toma. At that moment he could not have cared if it were Niku, he was compelled to attack. Bardock was usually calm in combat, but his animal instincts took over and his rage swept through him like a coursing river. He tackled his friend with ferocity seen only every moon year, and pounded hopelessly until the two of them finally found their feet, avoiding and giving blows until an elbow to the square of Bardock's chest finally knocked him flat on his back. 

Toma snorted, wiping some of the excess blood from the side of his face. Bardock would have won that round had he gone any further into the match. He brought his gaze down to his commander, whose chest was rising and falling ruggedly, black eyes blankly gazing into the endless sky of hell. He shook a little, perhaps with fatigue and cold – maybe even emotion. Toma trudged toward his friend, reaching down and grasping Bardock's forearm.

"Come on, Commander." he smirked, leaning back so his weight pulled Bardock to his feet. Bardock averted his eyes, stepping back as he was released. Toma added a laugh to his smirk and swiped at some of the blood smeared around Bardock's nose and below his eye. "Admit it, Bardock. That little rumble felt good, didn't it?"  
  


Bardock rolled his eyes and slapped his hand away, trying his best to clear his nose of all his blood. "It's always been the way to relieve frustration, Toma. Just because we're dead, it doesn't change that." For the first time in a long time, Bardock let out a laugh. 

But Toma's features remained solemn and still. His gaze forced Bardock to look at him, and he dropped his hands at his sides. "Bardock. It's not your fault. Just let it go, friend. Let it go or you will die so much more than you already have." 

"Oh, and you've suddenly pulled a degree in psychology in the weeks you've been down here?" 

Toma shook his head. "This is serious, Bardock. Tell me – no, _promise_ me you'll forget it. You couldn't defeat Freeza only because it was against destiny's will."

"And all that light of hope crap you were preaching about?"

Toma shrugged. "There's got to be someone out there we can count on. Even if it's time. Something will destroy Freeza, and then we'll have our vengeance. Who knows who will avenge us? The Prince, some young upstart that happens to be stronger than Freeza out there in the universe."

"Kakarott." Bardock said quietly, almost to himself. So quietly that only he and Toma heard. "Kakarott will defeat Freeza. Trust me. I've practically seen it."

Toma smiled this time, slapping a hand on Bardock's shoulder and pulling him along to the cells. "I guess the little squirt wasn't exactly 'worthless' after all."

"Shut up."

But even though he was finally able to fall asleep that night, Bardock still carried the taint of failure. Every time he looked at Toma – his friend that had once looked up at him through dying eyes and begged for vengeance – he felt that same hopeless feeling of dread sweep over him. This truly was hell.

But as much as hell as it was, he was still content to spend days lounging with his old squadron with his mate finally at his side again, speaking of missions and memories, events and people they knew in their youths. Often, some of the demons would rise from their territories and demand battle, and the squad would gladly accept. What drove him to keep going was the desire to meet his youngest son, and as the years went on, he finally got the chance. 

But that story is yet to be told.


End file.
